When the Bough Breaks
by Seraphim-Burning
Summary: Breakout Kings Fic. Julianne/Lloyd Julianne visits Lloyd in Maybelle after disappearing from the team two years prior, bringing with her apology and a secret. (LEMON)
1. Chapter 1

Fandom: Breakout Kings

Title: When the Bough Breaks

Author: Lexgallant/ Seraphim Burning

Ship: Lloyd/Julianne

Rating- Pg 13

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Summary: Futur (ish) fic –Julianne has kept a secret from Lloyd for two years now but can't bare it any longer. Now she must go to Maybelle and decide what they have to do with this information.

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**A/N The story hasn't been changed just reposted with a few corrections. Thanks so much to Lucky713 for pointing out an error I made with the names. All the best **

**When the Bough Breaks**

Lloyd had always been a nervous person. Even when he was younger (for as long as his extensive memory would let him remember) he had been a nervous sort of guy. His mother had assured that, using every point of weakness as a springboard for some painfully loaded attack upon him. Throughout his life he was blamed for every single misfortune that fell upon either himself or his mother while she simultaneously demanded his unwavering love and support. So, as an adult, when the unexpected came he took it with all the determination and zeal of a deer being pursued by hunters in a forest. He tried to make himself as invisible as possible and avoid notice and when all else failed he ran like hell. That had been his long -standing back up plan and was more then to little to blame for his stint as a fugitive from justice and the subsequent twenty-five year prison bid. But in the end-running worked. In most cases it allowed him enough distance to avoid serious physical harm and would often bide him some time to rethink the situation to an extent he was able to think his way out of it.

Of course that strategy hardly helped when someone specifically requested to see you in a prison. It was hard to avoid that, not to mention (in his case) unprecedented. In all his time at Maybelle and even when he was at Rahway there had been no visitors. Well, that wasn't totally true, there were his lawyers at first, but they were hardly guests. Then the money ran out and those little treats stopped. His mother had never bothered coming to see him in the first place and his father was in "Holland", probably unaware of his incarceration. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously at the thought. What if it was his mother? His heart leapt with both with fear and hope. What would it mean should she come and visit? He didn't know and his nervousness grew.

Feeling he could no longer sit Lloyd began pacing the length of the visitation room, his mind working at maximum capacity, searching out any reason why, after so many years, anyone would want to speak with him. The only contact he had on the outside was Charlie and Ray and his mother. That was it. No one else really cared if he lived or died and he wasn't so sure how devoted to the cause those three were. Perhaps it was an old student? He dismissed the thought as soon as he had it. Most of his students, while grudgingly admitting he was brilliant, despised him.

He heard the guard approach and immediately hurried back to his seat, eyes trained at the door. It creaked out while opening, revealing a glance of a guard calmly informing the person on the other side of the door what to do when he/she was ready to leave. He wanted to scream out that it was stupid to instruct someone on how to contact you when you are actively monitoring the room itself but he restrained himself. Instead he dropped his hands to the sides of the metal chair, clutching at it desperately while training his eyes straight ahead.

The first thing he saw as she entered (for it was definitely a she) was the hair. Soft and blonde, it reflected the harsh lighting of the room. Flaxen was the term he had read and he always used it in regards to her. He could claim blonde hair as well but he had always noted that his hair had none of the luster hers always had. From the first moment he had seen it, pulled back from her face with only a few twisting tendrils escaping their enclosure, he had wanted to reach out and wrap it around his fingers. So many times he had imagined himself tracing its progress down the side of her face, feeling the way it framed and enhanced such delicate features. He caught his breath as she came into view.

It had been awhile since he had seen her (around two years if he was correct-and he usually was). She bit her lip nervously as she approached, teeth biting against pink, soft flesh, before exhaling and pressing them together in dogged determination. Her eyes fell upon him and he was caught in her view for a moment before lowering his own face. Her gaze burned through him with a dark smoldering heat he prayed he might still be able to ignite there. Fear lingered in his mind as he debating conducting this conversation while looking at his lap. Her eyes were so expressive and he was so observant. Lloyd feared what emotions he might see there. Those eyes were so familiar, looking up at him innocent and vulnerable a look of friendship and trust. He had also seen those eyes below him, half closed with passion. In that moment they had been hot and dark and he had been unable to look away from them. He wondered how such a silly metaphor such as drowning in someone's eyes could be so accurate. He felt his own cheeks blush with embarrassment at the memory. His most treasured memory coupled with an intense shame; it always seemed to be the way with him.

She seemed to sense his discomfort and matched it with her own. She took her seat, across from him and shifted uncomfortably. He noted they were close enough to touch hands should they reach yet the expanse between them seemed huge. Lloyd kept his hands on the edge of the table; unsure of what to do or say. He hated feeling so uncertain. He hated being so bared and stripped down before her. He hated that he was wearing his prison blues. He hated that she wouldn't look at him.

The guard regarded them sharply before closing the door, he heard the locks click into place. He tried to lean back, to look more casual so as to alleviate her anxiety and his own. Lloyd noted that her hands were visible on the table and that were slightly shaking, a clear indication she probably had driven here on her own. He wondered what on earth had caused her to drive all the way here to visit him at Maybelle, way out of her safe zone, after not seeing her for nearly two and a half years. If she wanted to speak to him she could have easily arranged to speak to him while he and the others were out catching a runner. He also doubted Ray or Charlie would have denied her access to his cell phone number. Hell, she could have gotten it all on her own without them even knowing. The inability to accurately assess the situation gnawed at him, setting his already frazzled nerves on edge.

"Well, this is a nice surprise," he offered, the statement coming out a little more bitter then he would have liked.

Her head shot up to face him and for a moment he thought she was just going to get to her feet and leave. His hands were on the table in an instant, reaching towards her despite the rules that kept him from doing so. He heard the static demand of the guard, warning him to back away, but he ignored it. His eyes looked to hers imploringly, begging her.

"Don't leave." He whispered sharply, desperation tinting his tone.

"I wasn't going too…" she whispered back.

"Yes, yes you were. You know you were and I wouldn't blame you if you did" he replied rapidly, moving back and sitting down in agitation, "But please don't."

There was silence again as she tried to settle herself. For once he tried to stay quiet and keep his observations inside. The way her eyes scanned the room, the way they refused to look at him did not settle well in his stomach. She was a picture of anxiety, despondence and guilt. Whatever had brought her here was not good. She pressed her head to her face before closing her eyes and breathing in slow steady motions. Not good at all. His nerves returned two fold. Finally, unable to bear the silent minutes his mouth opened and the words flowed out.

"Why are you here Julianne?" there was a tenderness there that was nowhere near as masculine as he would have hoped but it seemed to reach her.

She seemed shocked by his words but began steeling herself to respond to them. He knew she would answer. Regardless of the mélange of disorders she housed Julianne wasn't a coward. Lloyd knew that if she came here to do something the only way she was leaving without accomplishing her task was by force, either physical or mental. He was a great therapist and a very good manipulator, if he wanted to get rid of her he knew it would be easy to verbally run her off. However, when he looked inside himself it was plain to see that he didn't want to. Whether it was emotion or pure morbid curiosity he wanted to hear what she had to say.

"It's about, um, that night. You remember right? The Jefferies case? With Stiltson?" she said tightly, pursing her lips at the mention of it.

Did he remember? He laughed at the statement and then immediately clamped down on it. Of course he remembered. The runner, the marshal that had come in to consult on the case. The man had been painfully handsome and had started hitting on Julianne the moment he spotted her in the room. The way he talked to her, in that suave voice that would have made her think that agreeing to go on a date with him was her idea. They had apparently known one another at the academy before she was thrown out. There had been a thousand inside jokes there, flirtatious glances on the man's side and soft smiles on hers. It had been horrible watching the attractive successful young law man swoop in and sweet talk her while his hands were figuratively (and at times literally) bound. Of course Lloyd wasn't an idiot. He knew that his anger towards Stiltson was irrational. He was in prison and had a large stretch to go, there was no way he was asking her out on any dates. Hell, It wasn't like he could even offer her anything remotely close to a normal life. Still, he was shocked to find that logic and an IQ of 210 did little to quell the most primal of instincts and he marveled at his own animalistic response to an unknown male encroaching on his territory. He knew that acting like some sort of Cro-Magnon man was totally below him and probably painted him as pathetic but it didn't stop him from being a colossal ass to Marshal Stiltson. He drug into the man the only way he knew how, using his mind to take the man apart piece by piece. So much so that he was left behind when the rest of the team went to apprehend the runner, leaving Julianne to babysit.

The others had accepted it of course, there was an unspoken understanding that the way the man was going after their blonde tech was painful for everyone to watch. He also guessed his own feelings were pretty obvious, especially when Charlie, 'Virgil' Charlie, empathized with him. So while the others risked their lives to apprehend a fugitive he was left with an annoyed Julianne. It only took fifteen minutes (by his count) before they found themselves alone and the argument ensued. It had been sharp and intense. He could openly admit that he had not yelled at someone so irrationally in his entire life and Julianne gave as good as she got. It was simply ironic that her level of trust and comfort in him gave her the confidence to tell him exactly where to 'shove it'. Had the situation been different he would have thought it amusing. The two quietest people on the team tearing into one another like vicious wolverines, going for the throat all the while never saying the things that were really running through their heads. At its peak they were in one another's face, chest to chest, spewing all sorts of venom that, even now, he couldn't remember. And then he kissed her and it had all spun out of control from there.

He had not had a lot of experience sexually; spending his high school and college years painfully young compared to those around him and then, finally when he was old enough to explore his sexual options those were all his age were his students. To engage in a relationship with any of the young ladies of his acquaintance would have been considered breach of trust. Oh, don't get him wrong, he had wanted to and the opportunities presented themselves as clear as day, but being gifted (in his case) also allowed for a heightened sense of personal ethics. He knew a breach of trust when he saw it and that's what any sexual experience with any of the young women he knew would have been. No matter how desperately he tried to work around it or hide it he just couldn't lie to himself about that. His ethics had always been important to him; exploiting a woman (even if she seemed more then consenting) was just wrong.

That's what Julianne had been and as much as he knew he should stay away, he had never experienced anything so primal before. He was aware she was hurt, damaged, and he that he had a duty to protect her. Even from himself. It was a slip in a long line of recent slips and despite his personal feelings of shame for taking advantage of the situation he couldn't bring himself to be ashamed of the act itself. Making love to Julianne (for that's what it had been- at least for him) had been one of the best moments of his life.

He kept his feelings about it to himself. They had never spoken of the incident between them and a few months later she spontaneously resigned from the team. When Charlie told him he had had to excuse himself from the room for a moment. This was the first time he had seen or heard from her since then.

"Um, yeah…" she stammered as he became aware he had never answered her question and had been staring at her instead.

"I remember," he stated. His mind screamed at him to keep her talking, to cajole her into staying just a little bit longer. He was desperate to see her and hadn't realized how much until grasped the fact she could leave at any moment.

"Do you ever think about it Lloyd?" she asked softly.

_All the time. Every single hour I've been here since it happened_, his mind answered immediately.

"Sometimes," his voice supplied.

She nodded. Meeting his eyes before gently smiling.

"I think about it all the time," she said softly, her cheeks reddening with each word.

He thought his heart might actually jump out of his chest despite the completely impractical nature of the term.

"I don't like how it ended." She continued, speaking more out loud then to him specifically "I should have spoken to you. We should have talked about it. I just, I couldn't be there. Seeing you and then you seeing me, knowing that I…"

She stopped as he leaned forward. Her words floated to him in a haze. He was controlling his breathing to keep himself from saying something, to speak out loud everything he had wanted to say to her in her thirty-month absence. He wanted to reach over so he could hold, he wanted to press his lips against hers and taste her again and again. A thousand completely illogical situations where they ended up spread upon the cold table skittered across his mind like spilled marbles and he hastened to catch them before they spiraled out of control.

"There was so much I should have told you Lloyd. I mean I owed you more." She continued, unaware of the turn his mind had taken, "And I know you're going to hate me and I hope that one day you'll be able to forgive me."

He felt the arousal replaced with confusion as she wrung her hands before him. He had no idea what could have rattled her so far or caused the tears that were welling in her eyes. He wanted to comfort her but at the same time felt his own guards go up. What had she done? What could she possibly have done? He couldn't imagine a single scenario that would cause him to hate her.

She reached to her side where he spied a previously unseen file folder. He wondered idly how she had managed to get it through security before he realized they must have checked it through. How strange. She didn't open it, merely placed it on the table and slid it between them, letting her hand rest on it, leaving it up to him to draw it to him or to push it away. It was as if she were offering him a choice, to take it or to leave it.

"I wanted to get your opinion," she stammered, suddenly overtly nervous, "As a doctor. A behaviorist I mean."

He caught the way her eyes shifted, as if she were trying to tell him something. He was no fool and he had always been so adept at reading her. He nodded, agreeing to go alone with this deception.

Slowly he reached over. He let his fingertips touch her, drawing one finger across her nail in an achingly slow embrace, the only one he could offer her in this situation. She caught her breath for a moment before letting colour seep into her cheeks, then, just as tentatively, she turned her hand upward, letting the tips touch one another. He smiled at that; at the perfect picture she made. He willed his mind to etch it into his memory so he could replay it over and over once she left. After another lingering moment it was over and she let him take the folder from her, their eyes locked across the table. Then as he had the papers in his possession she lowered her head like a chastised child, waiting for a blow.

Her reactions made a stab of fear slice through him as he opened the plain folder and looked at the assembled documents within in. At first he had no idea what he was looking at. A case perhaps? The first thing he saw was the square of paper with the words "Certificate of Live Birth" across it. His eyes roved down the names before his breath caught in his throat. He was certain forgot how to breathe even as he forced air painfully into his lungs. He forgot how to think as he stared the document and the information it held. His hands tensed sharply before he pulled them away so that he would not crush the paper. They seemed to be shaking. He looked down again, wondering if perhaps he was hallucinating, but the name was there in its bold letters, as clear as day.

Lily Anne Simms

He scanned the paper. Julianne Simms was clearly listed in the spot that indicated mother, her loopy signature staring out at him. Again he barely managed to hold it together when his eyes caught the point the line that listed Father. The only thing there was a very conspicuous word. Unknown.

Lloyd forced himself to look at the Birth date: December 21. His mind did the calculations without any effort, counting back nine months before the information filed itself away in his mind as being totally possible.

_Completely possible_, his extremely rational mind argued.

_Impossible_ the emotional part whispered back. Refusing to allow him hope.

His panicked feelings fell upon him like a tempest, anger, defiance, hope, terror, fear, joy warring for dominance in the wake of what he now knew. He covered his face with his hands, struggling to breath and kept it together. The possibilities raged on one side, giving him a kind of hope he hadn't felt in so many years. The other side sharply reminded him that in order for that to be possible Julianne would have lied to him or at least withheld the truth. The horrible realization that the point might be completely moot hit him. Perhaps she was being honest when she was saying she needed his expert opinion. Perhaps this little girl had nothing to do with him at all. Ray's name flashed through his mind and he saw red.

His eyes sought Julianne out across the table, trying to see some type of truth in her eyes. She seemed to be wringing her hands so tightly they were brilliant red and he worried she might rub them raw should she continue. Her eyes were streaked with tears as she looked at him. Guilt spread over her like a cloud of shame and he knew there were no answers to be found there.

He pushed aside the Birth Certificate, looking for something, some proof to either foster or crush the hope he felt budding inside.

The next thing that hit his eyes was the picture. It was a snap shot, nothing professionally done or really impressive, just a picture someone had taken at the park. He picked it up, grasping it in his hands as his analytical eyes studied it with all the power of observation he had ever possessed. He was a doctor and at the very least, he had a good understanding of how genetics worked. He knew which traits should be passed down and which of those he possessed. However, as his analysis of began he realized he hardly needed it.

Julianne was centered, looking lovely in a light blue summer dress, her shoulders bare and her hair tied back in only a loose braid. Her face was a picture of happiness, smiling down at the smallish creature tucked securely into her lap. The little girl was looking straight at the camera, a matching smile upon her lips as she sat in her own blue-green dress with large flower silhouettes printed upon it, a picture of childhood innocence. There were books spread around them on bright green grass, each open and turned to different pages, as if the choices were so many that not a single one could be decided upon. The shadows played across the faces of mother and daughter, sunlight filtering through a tree that was out of sight but obviously providing shade for the angelic duo. The little girl glowed with a sense of adoring trust and happiness. Just looking upon her Lloyd was taken aback by how happy she seemed. It was a happiness he could never remember himself feeling even as a young boy. Then again he had no memories of his mother taking him anywhere, least of all a park on warm summer's day.

On a less sentimental note he could see the structure of the child face mirroring Julianne's exactly, granting the little girl a charming elfin appearance. The smaller version of Julianne's mouth, chin and brow gave him a clear impression of what this child would grow up to look like and the assurance that she would be lovely indeed. However, it was the differences his eyes sought out and the evidence presented itself immediately and inarguably. Whether or not his name was anywhere near that birth certificate his contribution to this little girl was clear.

He tried to overlook it, perhaps use it to discredit the possibility that he had been involved in creating something seemingly perfect but the mind he relied on so heavily for any sense of self worth he still had would not allow him to deceive himself in this matter. The turn of the child's nose was certainly not her mother's, her upper lip was fuller then Julianne's and a great deal redder and then there were the eyes. He was not a handsome man by any means but the one thing the few women he had been briefly intimate all complimented were his eyes. They all said that just looking at his eyes they could tell he was sharp. They said the bright, arctic blue colour seemed to convey his intelligence, as if that alone allowed others a brief glimpse of his mind. The girl's eyes were housed in the same stunning setting as Julianne's but unlike hers they were not dark or smoldering. Instead he found crystal blue staring out of the photo, bright and alive. They were his eyes, without a shadow of a doubt; he was also startled to realize that it was not simply the colour they seemed to share. He saw an intelligence there that sent a chill down his spine and he understood exactly what those women had been speaking of.

The eyes led him to look at her hair. Surrounding her face were waves of dark blonde. He unconsciously reached up to his own and grasped it tightly. As if tested his theory he tugged a few strands out and dropped them next to the picture. The tone and colour matched perfectly but the texture was different. The straw-like quality of his own hair was gone in the image and replaced with soft waves tied back with ribbons and bows. There was absolutely no evidence of Ray in either the girl's structure or bearing. While he could pass as the father based on colouring alone it was clear he was not. Not to mention the overwhelming fact that Ray would never allow his own daughter's birth certificate to remain blank, regardless of the mother's wishes. The evidence was there, right before him, yet his mind wasn't quite making the jump to the inevitable conclusion.

"God." He whispered softly before looking at the Julianne, "She's… she's…"

There were no words.

"I think she's beautiful." Julianne supplied softly, her voice still uncertain in the silence of the room "But I think she came out beautiful. Then again, I'm biased since I'm her mother."

Mother. It ran through him like a shock the word jump-starting the part of his brain that had slowed to a painful crawl with his revelation. He wanted to be furious with her, heck a part of him was. There was a piece of him that wanted to throw this in her face; tell her she was a liar and that he obviously wanted nothing to do with her or her daughter. But the other part, the secret part that safe guarded any hope or strength he had ever had, would not allow it. Lloyd was a practical man. He was intelligent but in the end he was aware that his intelligence made people move away from him rather then draw them near. Genius might be an impressive term to own but it was not one that most people could have while maintaining a normal life. He had always had a difficult time with people (women and men), even when he was a tenured professor and published behaviorist. There was little chance of a woman taking an interest in him now, when all of his good qualities had been stripped away and replaced with a decades long prison sentence that hung over his head like the sword of Damocles. He had held onto the hope that maybe, one day, he would have a child. A wife. But it was a dream and he knew the chances of it happening were slipping away with each passing year be spent behind bars.

He was smart enough not to throw this opportunity away because he was angry. He was aware enough to know that any anger towards Julianne he might be feeling right now would likely disappear in time. It would be foolish to burn a bridge he may have to cross at some point. He just needed to control his emotions and calm down.

"I know you must be mad." Julianne started.

"Oh do you?" he demanded sharply, allowing the anger to seep through, "Why? Did someone have you're kid and not tell you about it too?"

She drew back as if struck and he cursed his inability to kepe his mouth shut. Then, watched in horror, as she gathered her things, obviously preparing to make her exit.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." He started quickly, "I'm just a little… um… caught off guard with all this. Maybe this is how Lars felt."

He watched her still. He had told her about Lars Lowery. She knew how he felt about the man who was his father in name alone. There was also a dawning awareness upon her face as he spoke, making it clear that she was slowly coming to the realization that she had inadvertently turned him into his absent father.

"Lloyd," she started, he could see the tears were now trailing down her cheeks "I am so sorry. I just, I found out and then I got scared. I was a washout of the Training program, working with cons and then I got this job offer. If they had known that the baby was yours... Lloyd, I just couldn't get throw out of another group like that. Especially not when…"

Her words caused a dark fury to rise up in him but it disappeared in a moment as he watched her hand slip under the table. He knew it was resting on her uterus. He recalled seeing Erika make the exact same gesture and he decided not to mention it to Julianne but he felt a warmth come over him. She may have been desperate to hide her daughter's paternity but it had not been out of shame of him. Her hand told him differently. It was a protective gesture. Regardless of her actions she had made those decisions because she truly believed she was protecting their baby. _Their_ daughter.

"It's alright." He said, his voice cracking around the words. He reached up to wipe a tear way, he had no idea why he was crying. It was too much emotion.

"I just thought you should know." Julianne replied gently, "I didn't know if you'd want her to see you like this. I don't even know if you ever wanted kids."

"I do. He stated suddenly, "I did, I mean."

She smiled at that, a soft uncertain smile.

"Um, what's she like?" Lloyd asked, his voice wavering.

There was no telling what would happen and he hadn't even breached the idea that he might someday meet her. In fact it was merely his own understanding with her behavior that let him believe Julianne wasn't just here to tell him he was a father and then depart forever, leaving him with the knowledge of a daughter he would never know. Of course her initial reason for being there might be true, in fact there was a good case for it. She might need help with Lily but at the same time the visitation reason might have just been a cover. Still, he struggled to keep his mouth shut; to keep a lid on every stray thought. The power was completely in someone else's hands right now; Julianne's hands. He felt a rush of exhilaration that usually came with gambling and he rode it for the little pleasure it was able to provide on this obviously harrowing day. Oh he had issues. He was aware.

Julianne didn't answer right away but a smile passed over her lips that lit up her entire face. All the worry seemed to just disappear as she looked up at him with shining brown eyes and he found himself marveling at her beauty once again. He congratulated himself on not over reacting in his earlier moment of anger as his affection for her was very obviously still in tact.

"She's amazing. So amazing." Julianne smiled warmly, "Such a good girl and happy all the time. She's always singing and dancing and reading. I've spent a small fortune on books."

She caught herself but he wished she hadn't. The joy in her eyes, the pure excitement she showed had been lovely on her. She was just exuded happiness; it was coming out of her pores.

"She can read? At two? So is she…?" he let the question hang, both scared and eager for the answer and what it would mean.

His 'gift' couldn't always be described as such. He'd had a hell of a time as a kid, and it hadn't been much easier as an adult. Again the concept of genius was a lot easier to live with when you weren't the genius. He felt a stab of regret and grief rush through him for what he might have unconsciously done to this little girl just by being the one who had fertilized her mother's ova. It was a frustrating, the thought that he had most likely passed on a genetic predisposition to being an outcast along with startling intelligence. What a trait to pass on to your kid.

From the way she pursed her lips pursed he had his answer. He let a sad smile spread over his lips.

"The specialists say they can't tell for sure how high her intelligence is until she starts school but they wanted to start her early. I said no. I didn't want her to be a two year old in a class with four year olds. I mean when she's old enough to attend I might consider skipping grades. I'm looking into good enrichment programs at some local elementary schools" Julianne stated seriously, "I do what I can. We go on play dates and I try to get her to spend time with other kids her age but it's hard. Even when we're at play dates with my friends the other kids avoid her. They don't know what she's saying most of the time"

"They didn't know what I was saying either," he replied, his mind slipping into the more comfortable position of behaviorist while trying to press down the mounting guilt, "Starting school early might actually be a good idea. It usually helps gifted children, most are more self aware then people give them credit for."

Julianne was paying very close attention and he was a little surprised when she produced a small notepad with a pen and immediately wrote his advice down.

"Getting her books is great but you might also want to look into other things. Play off her interests." He continued, trying to think of all the things he had wished his mother would have done for him when he was a boy.

He wondered if Lily was well adjusted; if she was happy. She certainly looked happy in the picture and with a mother like Julianne he didn't see how she could be anything but happy. So few people realized that along with all the other benefits and pitfalls of being a genius it did not mean that a successful happy life was guaranteed; he was living proof of that. An IQ of 210 had not saved him from making the bad decisions that had ended resulted in his being locking him away for a quarter century. He wondered if a happier, well-adjusted childhood would have made a difference. That perhaps if he had had loving supportive parents he might be in a much better situation. He dismissed the thought almost immediately. Firstly because it was useless to mull over the impossible and secondly because all the errors of his life were responsible for his meeting Julianne. That was not something he was willing to trade for.

This came with a renewed vigor and sense of control. While his life had been made better for meeting Julianne hers obviously had not. Had she not met him she might be a while lot happier, or at the very least her life would be a great deal simpler. If Lily was happy then why would anyone allow a con to take an active role in their child's upbringing? The thought scared him into action.

"You should watch for the signs," he found himself stating, shoving through the papers in front of him for any evidence Lily might not be well adjusted. That his daughter might need him in some capacity, "we know that you have a genetic predispoition to anxiety disorder and agorophobia, we might not have to worry about symptoms for another few years. Until then you should take her for evaluation, you know, catch these things before they become real problems."

"Really?" Julianne asked, quirking an eyebrow, her hand stilling from the pad "You honestly think she needs a therapist? She's only two."

Lloyd rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. He didn't want to lie to her, not at all but the reality was now sinking in. He had a child. Julianne was a good mother, more then capable of raising Lily on her own. He didn't want that. He didn't want his daughter to have to face the world all alone and different, with no one around that she might relate too. He may have not been aware of her but as their conversation continued he was becoming more conscious that he did not want another man raising his girl. She would need him as she grew and her intellect developed and he was sure that he would need her.

"Well, if you don't want to force Lily to speak to a stranger," he began, "I could do it. You know, you could bring her around. Maybe we could arrange for a private room and I could talk to her. Give you some perspective. It would probably be better seeing as I am the only genius in the field I know of. In this area of course."

He felt his heart in his throat. It was a sound offer. He reminded himself he was a great therapist, people used to pay hundreds just for an hour and his opinion. Of course it hadn't lasted long but the opportunity was too good to pass up. He had to admit he was nervous; of Julianne's answer and the possibility meeting his daughter. He was even more nervous about the little girls' well being. He was knew he couldn't be much of a father (it was an improbably that he would be out of prison until after her fifteenth birthday) but in that moment he decided he didn't want to be to Lara was a stranger. Even if he had lost Julianne (he had already convinced himself of that ages ago) there was no way he was willing to let his own child be a stranger to him. There was no way he would be to Lily Simms was Lars Lowery was to him. He had to find a way and if it was through the guise of therapy then so be it.

However, in the end it was all about Julianne. Lloyd found himself watching her, searching her for any inkling of what she was thinking. It was sad that for the first time he couldn't read her expression at all. He had put his cards on the table, gone all in and now it was time for her to show her hand. Had this all been some sort of exercise in confession? To let him know his daughter existed simply because the weight of the secret was just too much to bare any longer or was she going to let him have a chance. Had she come here because she realized that not only did Lara need a father but she needed him specifically. He contemplated the words he had told Erica so long ago, that a mother was "the one person genetically designed to nurse" their child. In his amazement he found that the same could be said of Lily and himself. He was possibly the one person in the world who had been genetically designed to nurse her, to teach her. He just prayed that Julianne had come to that revelation as well.

Julianne seemed to stare at his suggestion before catching herself. He watched as she seemed to mull the situation in her mind before smiling at him nervously.

"Would you mind?" she asked.

"No, of course not, not at all." he answered eagerly, "If it's alright with Charlie and Ray I would love to help."

"Then I'll talk to them and let you know." Julianne said.

An onslaught of emotions washed over him. Unable to cope with it he placed his hands on the table before dropping his head to his hands. He felt tired. So tired as he hurriedly wiped the tears from his face before turning to face her. Julianne was smiling but crying as well. In her eyes he saw an embrace, he saw all the sadness, shame and guilt she had been carrying for all these years. He tried to will his forgiveness to her because there was no way he could say it out loud here in Maybelle.

There was no doubt there would be far too many emotions to deal with after she had left but he wanted her to know there was no malice for her in him. She had done him wrong. She had hurt him and infuriated him and he knew it would take a long time to let his own trust issues to get over this betrayal however he would not squander the chance he was being given. Nor would he bite the hand that feeds and right now that hand was Julianne's.

"Well I should go," Julianne said while rising to her feet and gathering the now scattered papers, "I think I can convince them it's for the best. After all how many genius' do you think are out there that would be able to help Lara understand herself."

"I don't know any," Lloyd answered honestly before reaching out and taking up the one picture of Lily and Julianne as it fell from the folder.

Vulnerability imbued his words as he held tight to the photo.

"Can I keep this? Please?"

She didn't answer but offered a nod, reaching over and pressing her fingers to his. They intertwined for a moment and he brought them to his lips and pressed a reverent kiss upon her knuckles. He wasn't quite sure why he did it and he tried to ignore the voice over the loud speaker telling him to let her go. Julianne's response was to diffuse the situation but bringing his fingers to her mouth and kissing them back before telling the guard she was ready to leave.

He sat there for a moment as the guard removed Julianne and then quietly moved him back to his cell. He tried to keep him mind as blank as possible, to hold it together until he was allowed the privacy of his room. His thoughts did not linger on anything for long but the moment he was back in his cell he pressed his face into the pillow and wept. He wasn't quite sure what it was for, he felt every emotion known to man. Happiness, sadness, anger and fear intertwined with one another as he lay there for hours trying to take in everything that he had been told and everything that had happened in the last few hours. Later, after he had recovered he tacked the picture on the corkboard.

That night he fell asleep staring at the image of Julianne and Lily on the green grass surrounded by books. That night he dreamed he was with them.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: It's been awhile but I've been watching BOK on netflicks and its inspired me. Also I am determined to keep going despite the cancellation.  
Anyway thanks to anyone who reads this or continues to write for this ship, its needs as many supporters as possible. Lots of Love- SB

* * *

Julianne stood in their living room, arms overloaded with bags and an exhaustion spread over her entire countenance. It had been a long night. A very, very long night that had culminated in Julianne attending her daughter's open house completely tired and nearly falling asleep on her feet as the teacher welcomed the parents into the classroom.

Not that it really mattered. There were no issues that ever needed to be dealt with when it came to Lily and school. In the end all that she had been obligated to do was sit at the desk for the first twenty minutes, then wander around the room and have teachers and random people walk up and shake her hand.

Lily had stood beside her the entire time, her cool eyes serious and her hair tied back into two little ribbon bound pigtails. Her daughter had looked absolutely lovely in her small dress, little cut out flowers falling along the hemline. The unseasonable warmth had negated the need for winter jackets which was a welcome bonus to the night. Lily never lasted long in layers, sooner or later they were lost of discarded and Julianne was certain any additional clothing would have just been loaded onto her. There were times when she felt more pack mule then mother. Then again she could be anything (and often had to be) for the sake of her exceptional daughter. Other then being significantly shorter then the rest of the children present there was very little to lend to the fact that her five year old (who was technically supposed to be in kindergarten) was functioning very well in her grade three class. Of course there had been moments where Julianne felt just how strange this life must be like for people like Lily. For people like her daughter's father.

The other parents stared at them but kept their distance, as if coming close to them and noticing that her daughter was so much smaller then the rest of the students was the worst sort of repellant . Still she could see Lily speaking to them, motioning with her hands as they made conversation. Still the boys stayed away from the little girl, the girls were kind but not overtly friendly. As she watched the interaction Julianne felt a stab of pain run through her chest, constricting her breath and holding it inside her. Her daughter was alright now but as she great older she would realize that the mental maturity she had would not be enough. She would be left behind. As the boys became intersted in girls Lily would realize she had no place in their social world. She would be pulled back into herself. Another stab of fear ran through Julianne as she realized her own psychosis might fall upon her little girl just as viciously as had on her. The thought had been enough to rush her through the night and hustle them both out of that room and back home. Agoraphobia be damned.

"Mom, are you okay?"

Julianne stopped her thinking, turning her head to glance at her small companion. Lily's eyes were staring at her again, that brilliant cool colour that had been borrowed from a man she had never formally met. Shaking her head she droppped to her knees to stare her daughter face to face. As she grew older Lily was growing into her features. As a baby Julianne ahd thought her daughter would be a relica of her with a different eye colour was as the years passed it was becoming more and more obvious that that would not be the case. While she did have her face and her smaller stature the little girls eyes were not hers, her lips were not hers and the hair, the waves were becoming longer and straighter, darkening and she knew sooner or later they would taken on that deep blonde brown that she had been all too familiar with.

"I'm fine baby, why don't you go and get ready for dinner."

That half smile that was nothing like her own lit up her daughter's face and within a few moments she had scampered off through the apartment and to her bedroom. Moving towards the couch area Julianne dropped onto the overused cushions and waited. She was tired, beyond tired. The last runner had taken three days to catch and while she was happy to be back with the Kings and grateful that her mother now lived close enough to babysit while she was working she hated being away from her little girl for that long. She closed her eyes, revelling in the rest and sense of completion it gave. Being at HQ was stressful, unspoken questions hanging in the air and all those moments when there were things that needed to be said but never were.

Being near Lloyd was both wonderful and terrible.

When she had met him in prison, when she had told him about Lily, she had wanted them to meet. In the end it was Lloyd who had had second thoughts. He had hated his own father, he was both in awe and scared of the implications of knowing Lars Lowery and even more so of meeting Lily Anne Simms. A week after she had visited he had requested that Lily never be brought to the prison. Julianne had argued it was fine, that Lily was intelligent enough to handle the situation but he had stated it was that same intelligence that made him want to keep her away. He had said, with Erica's daughter, it was different, the girl was average and her ability to deduce why her mother was there was not so profound that she would be able to tag her mother as a killer. Lloyd knew that it would be different with Lily and Julianne could admit that he was more then correct. Lily would know why Lloyd was in there and what it meant to know he worked on the same team as she did. She would be able to count back and realize her father was actually incarcerated when she was conceived, which would lead to a whole lot of questions that Julianne nor Lloyd ahd any desire to answer. He had argued they should maintain her innocence for as long as they could because sooner, rather then later, it would be gone. Or at least gone enough where an introduction in Maybelle would not be considered traumatic. Of course that hadn't stopped him from being interested. Lloyd called their home every single night. No one else knew (although Julianne thought Shea and Erica might suspect) When she had come back to work for the Kings there had been a moment where there was nothing but staring. She had hugged Erica, hugged Shea and the awkward hug with Lloyd had made everyone laugh.

The real reunion came later, after everyone had gone and all were in the field he had comeup behind her and wrapped his arms around her tentatively, as if he were afraid to face her. She had raised her arms up, holding his arm tightly against her and pressing her back to his front. It was a strange embrace, one full of memories and promise and shame. He couldn't look her in the face and while she could accept that she couldn't imagine why. Then she felt it, the tears against her shoulder and the lips against the column of her neck and she knew. He was ashamed of his feelings. His want and guilt were very understandable, after all they lived in her as well. It had been two years since he had seen her and while talking to her everyday was one thing being with her was another. It had been four years since the one time they had made love. This reuinion was a tempest, emotionallly wild and out of control.

Julianne opened her eyes when she heard the phone ring. Instinctively she reached over fished it from her purse and pressed her finger to the little green button before she even glanced at the number. The toneless voice of the operator was no surprise, but the call itself was. She had seen him not six hours previous, he rarely called on days that he could talk to her.

"Julianne?" his voice was tense, tentative as if he were afraid she would hang up. She wondered what the hell his mother had done to him to make him act this way everytime he called.

"Hey Lloyd, what's up?" she replied as casually as possible.

There was silence for a moment. It was part of their conversation. Her phone bills were murder.

"I'm sorry, I know I don't usually call when we've actually been talking," he paused once more then more vulnerably he asked, "I just wanted ot know how it went tonight. You know, the school thing?"

She smiled. She had forgot that Ray had mentioned it out loud, that it was parent teacher interview night and that she should hurry if she wanted to go. All the cons and Charlie knew she had a little girl and while they were more then eager to figure out what she looked like Julianne ahd been very careful not to have pictures of Lily lying around the office. The only one she had was tucked safely into her wallet. Shea and Erica would never know what/who her baby looked like unless they happened into Lloyd's cell in Maybelle. She knew there was one there, tucked into one of his books.

"It went really well." She responded, moving to her feet and heading towards the kitchen, it would be peanut butter and jelly tonight or frozen pizza tonight, she would let Lily decide, "They think she might actually be surpassing the class again. Apparently she's reading at a sixth grade level but since its only one up they might just leave her alone."

"I went to highschool when I was nine." He answered conversationally, "She might even beat me."

"I don't want her to be left behind socially." Julianne answered, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder, "I'm worried she's going to be all alone."

Again the silence reigned and for a moment she thought Lloyd had hung up. Instead of ending the call she waited.

"Julianne, she's going to be alone." He answered with a sort of sad finality, "No matter what grade she's in she's going to end up alone for at least part of her development. Mentally she is too advanced to speak with kids her own age and physically those who are mentally at her level would be committing rape if they did anything inappropriate with her. She's going to need to accept that, in fact she probably already has."

"Well I haven't," Julianne answered sharply, "What she needs is someone to talk to, someone who understands."

"We've had this talk. I can't." he began.

She closed her eyes and prepared herself. This was their only real argument and she was far too tired to try and circumvent it tonight.

"You won't," she countered sharply, lowering her voice so her daughter wouldn't hear the whisper, "You've never even heard her voice."

"I'll talk to her when she's old enough to handle it." He answered desperately.

"She never will be." Julianne snapped, "You aren't. You're going to wake up ten years from now and realize that you've never even seen your daughter, you don't know her and she's grown up and you've lost your chance."

The dial tone greeted the end of her tirade and she lowered the phone and let out a long sigh. Tilting her head back she wiped the tears that were forming in her eyes away. It was only as she had taken her last deep breath that she realized she was not alone in the room.

* * *

Lloyd paced up and down the length of his cell, his hands in his hair, then on his chin then clutching compulsively at his prison oranges. His room had never seemed smaller, his skull had never seemed smaller.

Hanging up on Julianne was a stupid move, he had known it the moment he had done it, but it was the only option he actually saw. He had run, it was in his nature to run and when the opportunity to do so had presented itself he had taken it without a second thought. Moving swiftly he shuffled through his books, finding the one he loved best and opened it up. The picture had been folded and unfolded too many times to count and he had taken to guarding it the way a magpie guarded treasure. No one had seen it, not Shea, not Erica and certainly not Ray or Charlie. He assumed Ray knew and maybe Charlie but for right now he could hold them in his hands and pretend they were his secret and in a way they were. He was certain none of the other cons believed, even for a moment, that this could ever have happened. Hell, years ago when Julianne had appeared in the visitors room with her file folder of facts about their illegitimate daughter he had barely dared to believe her. Now that was what he held onto, what he clung too. There were other pictures of course but this would always be his favourite because it was the first. The sun dappled leaves, the shade spread over the serene image of mother and daughter sitting together and reading.

In this picture he had first seen her eyes (his eyes really) and the beauty Julianne had passed down to their child. He could see the sweet melding of their features in that small face and innocent smile. No matter how often he held it in his hands he could never look at it enough. His mind drank up every nuance to the image he could tell within the hour when and where it was taken just by the positioning of the sun. He could tell what Julianne was thinking, he could tell what Lily was reading. Everything about that picture was perfect and certain. Maybe that's what he was protecting. He was good enough at what he did (or had done) to know that his aversion to actually meeting Lily was not normal. Every parent in prison was ashamed of their position but that didn't stop them from being parents. He saw Erica with her daughter and knew that despite his own disdain at her allowing her child to entire such a place that the alternative of not seeing her would do far more harm then seeing her mother incarcerated. But there was that fear. Fear of being a father, fear of being the next Lars Lowery. He wanted to be a good father but he had no idea how. He had never met a good father figure and his mother's boyfriends, as few and far between as those men had been, were barely capable of babysitting a goldfish let alone a child. A gifted child was a whole other animal.

That was the second issue.

The ability, the perfect mind that he possessed that made him as he was, and he had passed that on. A gift or a curse given genetically to a young girl who had had the misfortune of being his daughter. He felt as if he had given her Parkinsons or Huntingtons or something else that would hinder her life. Just hearing Julianne talk about her and he knew, Lily would be coming upon the age where she would realize she was different. With her propensity to Julianne's own mental issues he could only hope their daughter didn't need extensive therapy by the time she was sixteen. He could only think of the women they had caught. When he thought of his daughter he thought of Starla. The seemingly innocent girl whose childhood had molded her into a sociopath. Lily had his intelligence but likely his flaws, she would be exhiled from normal society, placed on a lonely pedestal. Able to judge (in her omnipresence) everything but her own actions. He was scared for her and he was scared she would hate him for his part in her plight.

Looking at the picture he tried to calm himself by focusing on Julianne. Sweet, beautiful, damaged Julianne. He wondered if she would hate him for what he had given her. Their daughter had the potential to be something great, she also had the potential to become the human equivalent of a loaded gun. As aware that he was that he was not to blame for his mother's faults yet he couldn't help but feel that Julianne might one day display the hatred for Lily that his mother did for him. A single mom with a "special" child her life would be difficult. All Lily's problems would be exacerbated, and while he had turned to gambling he was worried she would turn to something else, something different.

_Young women who lack father figures seek affection from other males in an effort to establish a sense of self worth_… his mind supplied and he shuddered. His genius daughter was going to be stripper. A stripper married to a large biker three times her age.

The tension was overwhelming. He moved again, this time dropping the photo back into the book and closing it tightly. He never wanted this. Well, that was a flat out lie, he always wanted this, just never in these circumstances. He was aware that at the center of this is the issue with his own father. Not having a father meant simply he had no idea how to be one. In fact the idea of being one was terrifying. Initially it had been a wonderful dream and Lloyd was aware that he had never been this lucky. Julianne, perhaps the only women he had ever really considered a life with (despite his being one behind bars) had somehow, against the odds, become pregnant from their one and only encounter. It seemed miraculous to him or perhaps very unlucky for her. While most other women on the planet would have likely aborted the ill gotten result of a passionate mistake it was not in her nature. Julianne had allowed their child to grow, to be born and then to be supported. And as a result there was Lily. A living breathing human being. A child whom his influence might make or break. It was a huge responsibility.

He knew he owed it to them. He owed it to Julianne for her actually doing all this, for mothering their baby and making him a father and then giving him the chance to actually be one. And he owed this to Lily because he knew what it was like to be ignored by one's male parent and that there was nothing quite as mentally damaging as knowing that no matter how amazing you were there was nothing in the universe that could entice the one person you wanted to acknowledge you to actually give you the time of day. He couldn't be Lars, he wouldn't allow it. Which meant one thing, Julianne was right, he had to talk to Lily.

* * *

Julianne wasn't sure what to say. Not when those eyes looked at her like that. It was the same look Lloyd gave her when he was trying to see through her. It was the look that fell her every time. She sat on the edge of her daughter's bed watching the little girl watching her.

She wasn't stupid enough to think that Lily was unaware of the situation. She had heard everything and the look in her eyes was all the confirmation that Julianne needed to assure her that her daughter had learned of her father in the last few moments and in those moments had surmised that not only was her father in contact with them but also that the man wanted very little to do with her specifically. She hadn't even said a word; the little girl had merely turned on her heel and headed from the kitchen into her bedroom. Julianne had watched as Lily undressed, folded her clothes neatly, readied herself for bed. The silence always bothered Julianne simply because she knew what it was. Lloyd was rarely silent, even when upset he didn't seem capable of keeping himself quiet. However Lily was so like her in that way. When upset she clammed up, as if she needed to collect her thoughts and reflect. Or she was locking her mind in. She was terrified of it. The idea that her daughter would let her stunning, beautiful mind become a private prison was the worst thing Julianne could think of happening.

"Listen, baby, I know you heard. I wish you would talk about it." Julianne sighed, reaching forward and taking the little girl's hand.

Lily looked at their touching hands, her eyes staring down before looking back up. There were so many questions there, that Julianne felt overwhelmed by them. Years ago that sort of look would have sent her running but now it only bound her tighter. Moving softly she eased into the single bed next to her daughter. She had never been a large woman and like her Lily was always small for her age, they fit in the space snuggly but rather comfortable. Pressing the girl to her side Julianne began to run her hands through the burnished golden hair, humming to Lily like she had when the girl had been just a colicky little baby, intent on never sleeping.

"Why haven't you ever mentioned my dad before?"

The question was so softly spoken Julianne nearly missed it but instead she took a deep breath and answered as honestly as she could.

"I don't know really. We weren't supposed to be together and I was afraid I would get in trouble I suppose. Or that he would."

There was silence again and then the words fell from her daughter's lips as naturally as rain from the sky.

"Is he a bad man?"

She knew it shouldn't have shocked her. Lily was very intelligent and Lily knew what the Marshal service was and what her mother did for a living. She knew what a con was and Ray had never beaten around the bush when it came to his opinions on most cons, referring to them as 'badmen' in a deluded attempt at maintaining some sort of childish innocence. Since Ray was the central male character in her daughter's life Julianne had never curtailed his access to her Lily. In fact his daughter Teresa babysat Lily whenever Julianne was at work and had ever since Lily was old enough to be left alone and Teresa's schedule allowed for it. But still, the notion that Lily not only understood the concept of criminals but she was easy identifying her father as possibly being one took a lot more deduction then the average five year old should have been able to deliver. Julianne felt sick to her stomach.

"He's not bad. Not really." She tried.

"But he's a crook right?" Lily continued, undeterred at the political answer Julianne had provided, "Like Uncle Ray says? A com?"

Julianne smile at the mispronunciation due to the large whole in her daughter's mouth where a tooth had once been, the tooth fairy had paid a pretty penny for that one "A con you mean?"

"Yes, a com," she replied impatiently, "short for convict right?"

"Yes, you're right." Julianne replied.

"About which one?" Lily frowned, a small furrow on her tiny brown.

"Both," Julianne sighed, "It's short for convict and you Daddy is one of them."

She watched as Lily reached over to tug on one of her long golden curls. Julianne had noticed before, Lloyd would always do that, tug on his hair or run his hands over his face. Just movement seemed to help the thinking process. She wondered if this was a good argument for Nature over nurture, that Lily was easily developing habits that mirrored a man she had never met. Then again the idea her daughter had inherited her father's 'genius' might also account for that. This might be a genius thing rather then a Lowery thing. She really, really hoped it was, Lily had enough problems as it was.

"So that's why he doesn't want to see me? Because he's a bad man?" she asked, eyebrows raising.

"No, I think he's afraid of you." Julianne answered honestly, gathering her daughter a little tighter in her arms, "He didn't have a Daddy of his own and he's not sure how to be one."

"That's stupid." Lily snapped back instantly, her voice laced with hurt "You never new how to be a mom before me and you're the best one ever. He's just scared then."

She took a moment to look at her little daughter and the earnestness in those small eyes. There were still times that she marveled at just how intelligent the little girl was. There was nothing even remotely ignorant about Lily, whenever she said something it was with intent.

"But I had a good Mommy myself. Gran was a great Mom. His Mommy wasn't a very nice lady to him and I think he's embarrassed to be in prison." She supplied, feeling strangely like she was justifying Lloyd to Lily.

"Did he kill someone?"

It was inevitable, most kids assumed prison meant murder or robbery or something equally intense but Julianne found she couldn't answer. Julianne just looked down at the wide blue eyes staring at her with that fearsome genius behind them. Lily had her answer, she knew how to read behavior, she had since she was an infant. Silence reigned over the room and within a few minutes Julianne felt something pressing into her side. Her eyes dropped to see Lily had buried her head just under her arm, pressed to the side of her breast. She could feel her daughter's tears rather hear them. She felt her own rising up to meet them and she held her tightly, pressing her own sense of loss into the room and let the emotion well into the air.

Hours later she was asleep in a little girl's bed, her child tucked into her protective embrace and her cell phone ringing in the kitchen, long since forgotten.

It's been awhile, hope you liked it. :)


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, its been a long while and with S2 coming up on Netflix I figured I had to write something to mark the occasion. This chapter has a lemon in it so if there is anyone reading this that doesn't want to be reading that I suggest you stop now. Anyway, all the best.

Oh yeah, so far this doesn't jive with the little epilogue the creators have provided us with. Sorry.

All the best.

* * *

Lloyd was losing his mind. He was certain of it.

It had been five days. Five days and more notably five nights since they had last spoken; since she had asked him to be a part of their child's life and he had shot her down.

Again.

He had tried to call her later that night (faking a heart attack just to get to the phone in the infirmary) but in the end his plan had failed and there was no resolution to their disagreement. At the time he had been marginally worried but had assured himself with the promise he would resolve this at the earliest convenience. The next time he was called into a case he would speak to her immediately, explain himself and make amends. They were always capable of finding a moment, a second or two together, where he could ask her those questions that just couldn't be asked over a monitored prison phone connection. Where he could apologize or rather beg on his hands and knees for her forgiveness and pray it was granted. Truly he didn't care about pride anymore, that ship had sailed long ago. He had discarded the meddlesome thing in all matters relating to Julianne or Lily and felt he was a better man for it.

He had felt secure in his plan for redemption. Julianne was soft-hearted, a trait she possessed that he loved but also one that he had used to his advantage time and again. She would forgive him because it was in her nature to do so. All he had to do was show remorse and make it clear he would comply with her wishes. It seemed the perfect plan, lacking only the last vital element, a runner.

It took another week before they had got the call for work detail. He nearly sprinted to the van and bounced on his seat the entire way there. He knew the obvious show was desperate and pathetic but he needed to be around her, just to know that she didn't absolutely hate him. Erica's disdain and Shea's amusement mattered little when compared to Julianne's forgiveness. For longer then he had been willing to admit she had been there, ever present in his mind. Every night when he laid down in his bunk, quietly trying to ignore the noises all around him, he dreamed of her. It was painfully evident to him that he needed her; that his sanity seemed to revolve around her. Julianne was his respite, his nightly salvation. The fantasy of what they could have together, of the life they might one day share, carried him through the hardest times. He needed her. He needed Lily.

He made it to the elevator in record time, earning a stern reprimand from the all too familiar guard who was leading them to Headquarters. He paced the length of the lift, ignoring Erica's threat to kick him to the ground if he didn't stop. He was out before the door was even open only to find Ray standing over Julianne's desk talking to a skinny man in a T shirt wearing thick black glasses.

Disappointment didn't even begin to describe it.

Ray then proceeded to explain that Julianne's daughter was going through _something _and she would be taking the week off of work to look after her. They would make do with the 'new guy'.

Lloyd was sure somewhere in the next few sentences Ray had explained who the new guy was and had likely given them a name to call him. He honestly could care a less about the temp; his mind was too busy reeling over news of Julianne.

His elation was replaced with a bubbling sense of panic that resided in the pit of his stomach and burned its way up into his chest. Lily was sick or hurt and he was powerless to relieve either of those situations. He was trapped here, chasing some lowlife, while his family was totally unreachable and possibly in need of his help. His over active mind provided a thousand terrifying scenarios where Lily's life hung in the balance. He pictured Julianne, tears streaming and hands grasping, her panic overrunning all the hard work she had done to soothe her tortured psyche as she wept over the fragile body of their child. He was barely able to contain the panic. His only saving grace was that throughout the whole self-imposed, mental, horror show Lloyd's face remained smooth and impassive.

Ray mentioned something about a runner. Lloyd was sure about that and reading through the man's file had been a great deal easier then trying to interpret Ray's half assed assessment of the situation. The man was a good Marshall (if not a little on the homicidal side- but that was justifiable in Lloyd's mind) but he was no analyst. He was a hunting dog, put on a scent and told to go. Hunting dogs did not strategize or plan, they reacted. Lloyd was more a strategist, watching for signs, hunting through clues instead of running headlong into the unknown. Of course at the end of the day Ray went home to his daughter while he went back to his cell at Maybelle to hang out with his creepy cellmate.

The runner had been mediocre in terms of the people they usually faced. There was nothing spectacular about an embezzler who paid off a guard to let him go. Lloyd's assessment had been simple, follow the money and you'll find him. They had found him at a bank, where he had once worked, in the safe. Of course he had burrowed into the building like some sort of deranged gopher and forgot to plan an exit strategy. He had attempted to 'fight' his way out but Erica and Shae had handled that well enough. He had stayed back, hanging out with the computer guy and working from the sidelines while the others chased down the runner in the field.

_Hi you've reached Julianne. I can't get to the phone right now, please leave a message. Have a good day._

The sound of her voicemail was engrained into his mind. Not that everyone got to hear her personal voicemail. Just him. … and anyone else who wanted to call her who hadn't been in prison.

Man, he was so screwed.

He watched as the new guy practically danced around Julianne's desk. In truth the guy hadn't been terrible, he was careful not to disturb her things and had made it pretty clear he didn't want Julianne's job. If anything he was extra considerate towards them, still, Lloyd didn't like him. He assessed this intense dislike and found that he was comfortable that his ire was based on the fact that this guy would talk to his Jules before he could. Frustration ebbed through him like a slow moving river. She had done nothing but try to foster a relationship between himself and likely the only child he would ever have and, in appreciation of that gift, he thrown it back in her face with his fear and stubbornness. He felt his stomach drop, as he considered the fact he was optional. If she decided never to speak to him again there was nothing he could do to appeal her decision. There was no recourse. That thought sent him into the panic mode he had been battling with all day.

Leaning back he ran his hands through his hair, trying desperately to calm his frantic mind. He might have just screwed himself worse then he ever had previously and given his history, that was saying something. The circular nature of his thoughts (Julianne, Lily, helplessness and isolation) made so that each time the thoughts circled his mind grew exponentially more negative.

Lloyd was so engrossed he didn't even notice the elevator door opening or who stepped out until they were already in the office space. He didn't see them as they moved towards the office and then through the main area. The walk was authoritative and didn't set off any significant alarm bells so he let his own mind recoil inside itself; the temp could deal with whatever the interruption was. What finally caught his eye was the colour. Gold. After so many years of loving her he was hardwired to recognize the exact tone of her hair whenever he saw it. She moved so confidently he hadn't even considered that few people knew where they were and even fewer had access to their HQ. Lloyd couldn't move as she stood there, her hands clasped in front of her, a soft smile on her angelic face and her golden hair around her head like a halo. She was not looking at him.

"Julianne, thank god you made it," the new guy cried, rushing forward and wrapping the blonde haired tech in a hug, "Sorry, I got to bail but I think most of the work is done. I just can't stay away from the office too long, us cybergeeks are in high demand."

"Thanks Gary I appreciate it." She replied hugging the guy back in a way that made Lloyd want to punch glasses Gary in the face.

"Yeah well, I owe you. Lucy's amazing and if it weren't for you I never would have met her." He stated happily, while gathering his things around him haphazardly, "We have to have you and Lily over for dinner again. I think she and Mark got on pretty well, he keeps asking when the pretty girl is coming back. I swear Lucy's already planning the wedding."

"Mark's only five," Julianne laughed.

"Well your little girl looks like you and my boy inherited his dad's good taste, what else can I say?" Gary grinned, kissing her on the cheek once before running to the elevator like the hounds of hell were on his heels.

"I'll call you." Julianne yelled after him.

Gary's response was to wave his hand as the elevator doors closed and separated him from their lives.

Every thought that Lloyd had been struggling with disappeared from his mind with a terrifying speed, leaving him slack jawed and empty.

He worked his mouth a few times, attempting to say her name but found that he could only stare. The woman he had been obsessing about for the last five days was back at her desk, moving around with the efficiency of someone completely at home in her own skin. She did not look his way but in a manner that made it clear she was purposely not looking his way. It was strange that he felt giddy instead of anxious. He had thought he lost and there she was, angry and upset but present. Her presence made all the difference.

Normally he was pretty good at being reserved at work; in truth other then a few hugs and a couple touches they had managed to keep their relationship almost totally professional. Lloyd had always been afraid any more would send Julianne packing again and the thought of losing her was enough to effectively quell his starved libido. However, all the emotion of the last week came pouring out. He was on his feet in a second, rushing over to her as if she were an apparition.

She looked up at him with tentative eyes and opened her mouth, she barely formed the letters of his name before he was on her.

Within a second his lips were pressed to hers, his mouth begging entry as his hands tangled themselves in her hair. He wanted to kiss her, needed to feel her and smell her; to be certain he wasn't fantasizing about her presence. All the anguish he had carefully cultivated over the last few days poured into his kiss and every moment of pain and love he wanted to express he gave to her. He moved his lips over hers as if in prayer, whispering to her apologies in every language and way he could think of. Because more then anything he knew he needed her, even if she didn't really need him at all. After a few moments Lloyd realized it hadn't stopped and that the lips beneath his were moving with him, matching him movement for movement. She was now setting the pace and it was a faster more intense pace then any they had previously experienced.

Within seconds it stopped being about forgiveness and became something different.

She was always the one who initiated. It was almost an unspoken agreement between them, given her control issues and her insecurities. In truth he liked it. Watching her plan out the seduction, her gentle and tentative measures that usually left him aching before she made even the first move. Most times it took a long recitation of the states and their capitals to keep him from spending himself like an untried teenager as she slipped her hands across his bare skin.

This was different.

He could surmise a great contributor was the fact they had never really fought before. Of course they had disagreed on certain issues and gone days without speaking but they had both returned with contrite actions and a peaceful cease fire was reached. This was so much different. He knew whatever he had done had upset her. This wasn't about love or making up, he realized, this was the war itself. This was the fight as a physical manifestation. He felt her dig her teeth into the flesh of his lip and he strangled down the yelp that sat in his throat. Her fingers dug almost painfully into his back and side and her movements were dominating in a way they had never been before.

Strangely, he thought of his daughter. He thought of the pain of the last two weeks and just how desperate he was without Julianne. Then all thoughts vanished as she worked her way under his shirt, her bare hands palming his stomach before dragging sharp nails across naked skin. He hissed at the sensation of it, knowing it would mark later. Even as he brought his eyes down to gaze at her the hunger in her near black gaze was clear; as was the unspoken request. He smiled; it was so like her to ask permission to use him in this way.

He submitted to her without a second thought.

She shoved him backwards and he was immensely grateful he had just gotten up from his chair. Landing in the hard plastic was less then comfortable but it made up for it the moment Jules climbed onto his lap.

Things were progressing a lot faster then he was used. Her normal build up had always been pretty extensive (when they had time) and perhaps a little one sided (when they had less then ten minutes). He was always the one intent on her pleasure, as if pleasing her sexually would ensure her continual consent in a relationship he really could not contribute much to. It wasn't like it was a chore. He loved learning her, memorizing the roadmap of her body, knowing if he pressed his lips here or licked there the desired result would occur. He could read her body as well as he read all other people and Julianne, for her part, was spared the embarrassment of trying to explain the nuances of her pleasure to a man who could not pay attention. It was, perhaps, one of the few perks of being with him. He was a genius in all things and devoted himself to his study of her as whole heartedly. This was different. This was the little seed of the assertive Julianne he often saw glimpses of. This Jules was taking what she wanted from him, forcefully if need be. This was the Julianne who had never suffered at the hands of a child killer. This was the woman she was supposed to be. He knew that the act itself wasn't about him; he was just supplementary to the process. This was about the hurt she had suffered and her unwillingness to allow him to inflict it. Ironically, it aroused him beyond all belief.

She ran her fingers along his face and through his hair as her mouth worked its way down his throat. He felt her small teeth bite down on the tendon firmly; strong enough that his hips thrust forward instinctively, her own body grinding down on him, forcing his movements to relent to her own.

He felt like a passive player in the entire ordeal. He made to move forward, to press his hands against her breasts or run his tongue along her clavicles but her questing hands froze him in his place. She undid the fly of his jeans and the button with a rapid action, reaching in and pulling out his straining erection with sure hands. He couldn't help the strained groan that escaped from his lips or the way his head dropped against her shoulder. She had never done that before. He looked up at her, the question echoing in his eyes, and was shocked to see her own gaze fixed intensely on him. She never made eye contact during sex. It was a submissive thing he was trying to break her from. Apparently it had worked.

He couldn't break away from her eyes as she worked him with a steady hand. The desire to just close his eyes and let them roll into the back of his head was so intense that it was difficult to actually fight the instinct, but he did. He stared at her just as readily as she was looking at him. So much so he didn't notice that she had shimmied off her own underwear. He was just about to beg her to stop pumping him (he did not want to embarrassment of coming undone in front of her like that) when she simply moved up and took him into her body. It was done so smoothly and with so little warning that he let out a strangled whimper at the sensation. It had been a long time and she was so tight.

He felt her small hands settle over his shoulders as she writhed on his lap. His own hands sought out her waist and he pressed his fingertips into her hips as she sought purchase on the edge of the chair, using her knees and feet to lift herself up and then push back down. Each movement earned a gasp from her and another moan from him. He smiled in satisfaction and delight. It had been awhile for either of them apparently.

Her speed was harsh, as she moved over him, always looking at him although her eyes were hooded now and glazed with lust. He let her do as she pleased, using his hands to help her rise up and down. There would be time for everything else later. There would be time for a discussion and for apologies but right now he needed to connect and she did too. He began to push up as he felt her strength faltering. He arched his hips up, catching her as she was moving down. The sound of her meeting him was musical, the soft cry that tore from her throat and the sensation sinking deeper into her. Just when he felt he couldn't hold out a second longer she pushed down and clamped around him, her inner muscles, tightening and fluttering along his fevered length. He wasn't ashamed of the cry he made as he arched up into her, lifting them both off the chair slightly as her knees tightened on either side of his hips. Her whimper was like a pure aphrodisiac and he pushed hard, letting her feel him harden as she tightened against him. He felt her hands tighten on his shoulders; her eyes finally close as she threw her head back, riding the waves of pleasure. Soon enough it was done, leaving them sweaty, tired, sated and nearly fully clothed.

She lay against his chest for a moment, and he let her. He could feel her labored breathing against him and her soft fingers tracing patterns on his shirt. They were silent. This was still her show and he knew enough to shut up and let her talk.

"I had to explain to her why you are in Maybelle." She whispered softly against his chest, "And then I had to explain why you didn't want to see her."

Lloyd felt his chest tighten painfully.

"I was so angry at you," she continued, then gave a soft laugh, as her fingers traced a red scratch that ran along his left pectoral "I guess I still am."

He was still, holding her against his chest while his heart hammered inside. She would be well within her rights to leave him. It wasn't the first time the thought had occurred to him in the last few days. It wasn't like he had any rights regarding Lily or Julianne, and not that he would go against Julianne's wishes in any matter that regarded Lily's welfare. He had been nothing more then Lars had been to his mother, not a father, a sperm donor.

"How are you feeling now?" he asked tentatively, running his hands over her. He wondered when the others would be returning.

"Tired. Still a little angry." She replied without hesitation, "More disappointed. Scared and sad. I feel really sad Lloyd."

"Why do you feel sad?" He could sense the answer; he knew the answer without even having to hear the question.

"We can't do this again. Whatever it is between us." She replied with a strong voice and glassy eyes, "I can't do it. I can't keep disappointing Lily like that. I love you Lloyd but I love her more."

His chest felt tighter then ever and he held her close, burying his face in her blonde waves so she couldn't see his own tears. He had known this was coming. Perhaps not at that moment but with her not calling back it was the only real resolution to their problems. He had wondered how long it would take her to get to this point, a point where she tossed him out and went it alone with their daughter. He tried to imagine never knowing Julianne, her disappearance from his life. Seeing Lily on the street and never recognizing her. He pulled up his feelings for the last week without her; of the well loved picture in his cell at Maybelle and his crippling loneliness. He tried to think of never seeing her, touching her or kissing her again. There was no choice to make here but there was a risk. It was a gamble really. He liked to gamble.

"I'm sorry," he whispered gently to her, "I'm so sorry Jules, not just for this but for everything. I'm sorry that you've had to be a single mother, I'm sorry about everything with Lily I'm sorry I'm such a colossal fuck up."

She was silent but listening, he could always tell when she was paying attention, so he continued.

"All I could think about all week was you and her. Not seeing you anymore, never knowing her." He struggled to maintain a steady voice, "And I thought about my mother, this bitter old alcoholic who mangled my childhood and how neglect and anger has seeped into every part of her until no one else can be around her. I don't want to be like that Jules. I can't be her."

He pressed a soft kiss against her brow, pulling her face to his and pressing his lips to hers. It took him a moment to realize he had never pulled out of her; that they were still connected. He wanted to weep at the deep meaning of it; that the physical metaphor was totally non-sexual and so painfully appropriate in this situation.

"I'm in prison. I'm a con. I'm doing everything I can to get out but it'll be awhile still." he whispered, continuing to shower her in affection, "I never wanted any kid of mine to see me like that but if that's the choice I get, if its humiliation or losing you and Lily, I'll take humiliation any day of the week."

He felt her tighten her arms around him even as she tilted her head to let him kiss her neck, "I love you. I've always loved you. It's about all I can offer you, that and my loyalty. "

The admission was easier then the first time he had done it but not by much. The first time there had been a pencil on the table. The second time it was his relationship with their daughter. The stakes had never been higher.

"What about Lily?"

The question hung for a moment. She looked at him. She was rumpled, her hair curling around her face and staring him down with those wide doe eyes. There was confidence and demanding in her expression, she would not give him an inch. He felt himself growing hard again at her dominant posture despite himself and forced the reaction down.

"I can't promise I'll be a good father." He began softly, "I'm an idiot, well, no I'm a genius but I can be an idiot. Just ask Shae. I never know what to say. I'll likely screw it up. A lot. I have no idea how to be a parent and even less idea how to be a good partner or father but I swear to you I'm going to try. I'll try anything. You are the best thing that ever happened to be and I hope that on the list of things that have happened to you I'm being put in the good category. If you think I can do this, if you want me to do this, then I will. I'll do anything for you and for her."

"You're scared." She stated. It was almost amazed, as if the idea was just occurring to her at this very moment.

"You bet you bippy I'm scared." He laughed nervously.

"I've just never considered you being afraid of her, or of me." She whispered to him, running a hand across his cheek.

"I've never been more afraid of anything. That includes prison." He replied seriously, "I never had a father and my mother was, well you know. I don't want to do that to another human being. Especially not someone like Lily. I honestly don't think I could endure you hating me."

She was silent for a moment. Just pressed against him thinking. For a minute he thought she might stay there for awhile longer but then, in an instant she got up, rose to her feet and quickly redressed. He followed suit, tucking himself back into his pants and straightening his shirt. He was good at getting ready in an instant. He watched as she paced rushed off to the bathroom and returned in a moment, completely preened and totally put together.

He felt the now familiar pang of pressure. She was lovely, far too lovely for a con like him. She was perfect and so was Lily. Really, what could he offer her but a giant anchor, to hold his family down. He should just let her go, just let them find someone else to complete their little family and have a chance at a normal life. Selflessness was never his strong suit but as he watched her he knew he had to do it.

"Jules, I…" he began.

He needed to let her go. He needed to tell her that it was okay.

"I'll bring her to Maybelle this Sunday." Jules replied sharply, lifting her head to look at him, "Nothing too serious. You are going to sit there and talk to her. Just talk to her. Explain why you haven't seen her and listen to what she has to say. That's the deal."

He nodded in a way he was certain made him look like a bobble head.

She smiled at him, that knowing, confident smile and made her way to her desk. He watched, in astonishment as she reached into her back and pulled out a framed picture and placed it on the corner of the desk. He couldn't help moving to her side to stare at it. The image was more grown up then the one he had in Maybelle was it was just as lovely. The little pixie of a girl, her golden locks and bright blue eyes smiled up them. He let his hand reach down to wrap a strange of Julianne's hair around his finger in an affectionate manner.

She didn't say anything but leaned against the back of his head, pressing her face against his hand.

"I love you." He stated.

"I know." She replied with a smile.

He found himself grinning. Sunday. He would see them Sunday.

* * *

Anyway thanks for reading. If you want to leave a comment feel free if not that's cool too. No flames please.


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